


What Happened When Blaine and Rachel Sang Broadway Baby

by haleygirl



Series: What Happened When... [14]
Category: Glee
Genre: Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 20:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleygirl/pseuds/haleygirl
Summary: Carmen Thibideaux was not happy with their Midwinter Critique. What did Kurt think? Contains spanking.





	1. Chapter 1

The subway ride home was long. Kurt let Rachel rant and rave, pacing the car with choice words about Carmen Thibideaux for several stops, with Blaine just sitting rather sulkily beside him with nothing to say. It was Friday night, so Blaine was coming back with them. The two had clearly planned to hit a bar after and toast themselves and their artistic genius tonight, and now Rachel was just pissed off and Blaine was feeling sorry for himself. NYADA was certainly keeping him on his toes, Kurt mused. Had to be hard for someone who’d barely struggled with anything in school or Glee in high school.  
“We should complain to the Dean of Students!” Rachel raged.  
“And say what?” Kurt asked, losing patience.  
“That she’s being unfair! It’s obvious!”  
Kurt sighed. “I think she’s being damn fair myself.”  
Rachel’s jaw dropped open.  
“I’m in tech rehearsals for my show! How am I supposed to—“  
“Rachel. If you went to an audition that specifically asked for a Sondheim solo and you did something else, you wouldn’t have gotten through the first 8 bars without being kicked out.”  
Rachel scowled. “This wasn’t—“  
“It’s all an audition. NYADA’s supposed to prepare us for the professional world. Even if this were any other college course, you wouldn’t expect to get praise when you didn’t even do the assignment, would you?”  
Rachel groaned. “You always take her side.”  
“It’s her class. Her rules. When you can’t even be bothered to do the homework, it’s just disrespectful. What did you expect her to say?” Kurt shrugged.  
Blaine put his head in his hands. “We weren’t trying to be rude.”  
“What am I supposed to tell Sidney Greene?”  
“That’s a personal problem, Rachel. Carmen didn’t have to give you a second chance at all. If you’d done what you’d been told to do, then you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. Work it out with Mr. Greene or take the F, those are your choices.”  
Rachel plopped down in a seat, too irritated to talk anymore.  
A few minutes later, Blaine leaned into Kurt, speaking quietly. “I think I’ll… write a letter of apology.”  
Kurt nodded.   
“I’ll say I’m sorry for disrespecting her class, and offer to do the retake anytime next week when I don’t have class.”  
“That sounds appropriate.” Kurt told him.   
Rachel looked at Blaine as though he was a traitor.  
Blaine sighed, avoiding Rachel’s gaze. Originally he had been thinking about doing “Giants in the Sky,” but Rachel had accosted him in the hallway after class last week with her big idea about “Broadway Baby.” They’d hardly have to rehearse because they’d sung it together at Callbacks a half dozen times already, she’d said. He’d been unsure at first, but Rachel had insisted that Carmen would be impressed. Rachel was a sophomore, surely she knew what Madame Thibideaux would like best. Blaine had found a lot of his classes more challenging than he’d expected, so the idea of getting special favor for taking an “artistic risk” was pretty appealing. And there was certainly an appeal to having an assignment go easy without having to prepare much for it. Lots of people at Callbacks had given them kudos the last time they had done that number there. Blaine had been looking forward to a win, and to seeing the other performances. And it hadn’t turned out at all like he had hoped. He couldn’t even really enjoy his classmates’ performances after because he was so embarrassed to have been called out in front of everyone. And then Rachel had to go and try to argue about it with Madame Thibideaux! The whole thing was pretty mortifying.  
Kurt put his arm around Blaine, rubbing his shoulder. Clearly he felt really bad about what he’d done. Kurt had known something was up when Rachel and Blaine had gleefully refused to tell him or show him what they were going to perform. Usually Blaine wanted to rehearse and get his critique in advance for assignments like that. Rachel had probably talked him into it, Kurt figured. But Blaine knew what was expected; the guidelines were always written out clearly in the syllabus.  
When they got to their stop, Kurt took Blaine’s hand and led him out of the car, with Rachel and her poofy pink dress following behind. Kurt was glad they were together at this late hour. After their neighbor’s friend had been attacked, Kurt had told Blaine he didn’t like him walking home alone at night. He wasn’t sure he could really enforce that, but it had shaken him up to think of Blaine in trouble. Blaine found the whole story hopelessly sad and felt cynical over it, but it had brought out a bitter anger in Kurt. He remembered what it felt like to be bullied in high school and harbored a lot of fantasies about what he would say and do if he saw that happen now.   
“So are we ordering in then?” Rachel ventured.  
“Sounds good to me.” Kurt replied, getting a nod from Blaine.  
Blaine’s fingers rubbed against Kurt’s as they entered the apartment building and got on the rickety elevator. “Um. Kurt. Are we… in trouble about today?” he asked shyly.  
Rachel glared at Blaine.  
Kurt looked at his boyfriend and then at Rachel. He cleared his throat. “We have an understanding about schoolwork, don’t we?”  
Blaine studied his shoes. “…Yes sir.”  
Rachel looked away entirely, not responding.  
Kurt eyed her for a moment and then sighed. “Getting a public scolding from Carmen Thibideaux is no small thing, but I’m not going to back down on our agreement just because I feel a little sorry for you two about that. And quite frankly, I don’t really consider getting offered a second chance to be much of a punishment.”  
The elevator doors opened and Rachel pushed past the both of them, stomping towards the apartment. Clearly she wasn’t going to be taking her punishment quietly tonight. Of course, she rarely did.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt pulled out the menu for the Chinese place on the corner, figuring Rachel needed to cool down a bit first. “You want the usual, Blaine?” he asked.  
Blaine was meek. “Yes sir.” He took his wallet out and put it on the table. “Cash is in there. I’m going to change out of this, if that’s okay?” He was still in his tuxedo.  
Kurt nodded and Blaine shuffled off to the bedroom area, where he still had a drawer to keep some pajamas and a few clothes in for his weekend visits. Part of him was wishing his Critique had been on a Wednesday or something and then maybe he wouldn’t be about to be punished right now. But then, Kurt wasn’t above following him back to Mercedes’ place and lying to them if she and Sam were home. “Blaine and I had a little fight,” he had texted Mercedes last time. “Any chance we could get a little privacy to talk it out for a bit at your place?” Mercedes had been more than happy to comply and had dragged Sam out to hear some music down the street, so no one was home when Kurt had taken Blaine over his knee in their living room that night. Truth be told, even when there was some amount of delay to getting punished, it usually wasn’t any picnic waiting. Blaine took out his pajamas, resigned to his fate.  
Kurt followed Rachel to her end of the loft. “I’m ordering. You want the usual too?” Rachel was stewing on her bed in her enormous gown. She grudgingly nodded. Kurt was about to turn away, when she called back. “I’m surprised you’re letting me eat,” she snarked. “Thought maybe I was so unprofessional you’d send me to bed without supper.”  
Kurt looked her over. “No, but keeping up that attitude is going to talk me into pulling out your hairbrush young lady, so I’d be careful what I do from here on out if I were you.”   
Rachel pouted at that thought, but did not talk back.  
“Put on your pajamas.” Kurt stared her down for a moment.  
“…Yes sir,” she finally relented, still refusing to look at him. She got up and began digging through her clothes to find something to wear. Satisfied, Kurt went back to make the call for the order.  
By the time the order was finished, Blaine had come out and sat on the couch, seeming to try to take up as little space as possible. Rachel grudgingly emerged a few minutes later, taking a spot next to Blaine.  
Kurt took a breath. “Alright. Food will be here in a half hour,” he announced, crossing in front of the two on the sofa. “Now. I want to know whose idea it was to ignore the assignment.”  
Blaine blanched. “Well I had said that it would be fun to do a duet before I looked at the syllabus and saw we weren’t allowed.”  
“So you knew the assignment was only for solos then?”  
Blaine fidgeted. “Well… yeah. I mean, I was just throwing out Sondheim ideas at first because I was excited—and then when I thought I could only do a solo I had to narrow down my choices.” He looked nervously at Rachel. “But then R-Rachel reminded me of how we used to do that number at Callbacks last summer when I first moved in.”  
“It was his idea just as much as mine, he could have said no!” Rachel protested.  
Kurt wasn’t having it. “I’m not making this a contest about who’s more to blame, Rachel. You’re both getting punished.” Both Blaine and Rachel got their usual butterflies hearing Kurt’s stern voice. “I’m just trying to understand how this even came about.”  
“I had Funny Girl rehearsals every day this week.” Rachel complained quietly.  
Kurt nodded. “You thought this would be an easier way to pass than to put together a new solo.”  
“Ugh. I knew you’d fucking be on his side—“  
“What did I say, Rachel?” Kurt interrupted firmly.   
Rachel scowled.  
“Young lady. This is your final warning before I tell you to march back in your bedroom and get your hairbrush, am I clear?”  
That got Rachel’s attention. She squirmed in her seat, nervously looking up at Kurt. “…y-ye-es sir,” she relented. She felt Kurt’s scolding face looking down on her a moment and then added, “S-sorry sir. Y-you said… we were both getting punished.”  
Kurt nodded, resolute. “We’ve all agreed that you two are to do your best work in school, and show respect to all of your professors. Phoning in your Midwinter Critique by showboating around with a number that you’ve already done before, that doesn’t even meet the criteria for the assignment, isn’t doing your best work.”  
“We thought she’d be impressed we thought outside the box.” Blaine offered.  
“The purpose of these critiques is supposed to be that you demonstrate that you’ve grown as an artist through this course. How does a number you did in a bar last summer fit the bill?” Kurt asked, exasperated.  
Blaine chewed on his lip, not having an answer to that.  
Kurt pressed on. “Madame Thibideaux has every right to have been offended by that display. Frankly, if NYADA had corporal punishment I’d half expect her to paddle you both over her desk for this behavior.”  
Both Rachel and Blaine fidgeted at that particular image. Kurt was really not happy with them.  
“You should both thank your lucky stars she’s being so generous as to give you a second chance.” Kurt scolded. “But first you’re both answering to me.” He pulled one of the kitchen chairs forward. “Rachel. You’re first.”  
Blaine shrunk. He had been hoping to go first and get it over with. Waiting made it worse. Kurt always knew how to send a message home.  
Rachel wanted to protest. Truth be told, she wanted to pitch quite a fit right then. But she really didn’t want to be spanked with the hairbrush. She didn’t want to be spanked at all, but the sting of the hairbrush always lingered a lot longer. She thought this whole thing was unfair, but she knew Kurt wasn’t prone to idle threats when he was in discipline mode. She unhappily rose slowly to her feet.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt ignored Rachel’s pouty face and focused on baring her bottom. He then pulled her over his knee, her small frame dangling forward. Blaine stole a glance, nervous to know it’d be him in that position soon. He sort of marveled at Rachel’s audacity sometimes— she had to know that copping an attitude about all this was only going to make Kurt more upset with them.  
“We agreed that shirking schoolwork was a sure way to get yourself in trouble in this house, young lady.” Kurt scolded. “You knew better, and you need to stop raging at Madame Thibideaux and start taking responsibility for your actions.” He punctuated his statement with a hard swat to Rachel’s bottom, which ignited a squeal from her. Kurt rolled his eyes. He always found her dramatic at first, as though if she made enough protest and noise about how it hurt he’d ease up or think she’d had enough before it had hardly begun. He knew enough not to be swayed by that. She had a ways to go to learn her lesson properly, and responded with two fast spanks to her bottom, letting her know that screeching about it wasn’t going to change her fate.  
Blaine found it hard to listen to, finding himself squirming at the sound of particularly loud slaps and yelps. It was difficult to avoid imagining how it was going to feel when it was his turn. Listening was always a reminder that Kurt had a pretty hard hand. He’d been there enough times before to know that Kurt would be firm but fair, he reminded himself. He wasn’t afraid of him, but he knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Why’d I have to listen to Rachel? To be honest, he’d thought he’d get extra praise from Madame Thibideaux for collaborating, or something. I’m such an idiot.  
Rachel was writhing over Kurt’s knee, the slaps to her bare bottom sharp and   
unrelenting. She whined, “Kurrrt pleasssse” several times to no avail, with Kurt only slowing to observe where her bottom was reddening. A few tears squeezed out, but mostly she felt sorry for herself. Maybe she had not followed the assignment exactly, but shouldn’t she at least get credit for the performance being good? She was about to be a Broadway star for goodness sake, NYADA ought to be able to bend the rules a little for that. “Owwwwww” she yelped, feeling Kurt changed up the rhythm. She bet Barbra Streisand never had to put up with this kind of treatment.  
“Have you learned your lesson, young lady?” Kurt asked, flexing the sting from his hand.  
“Yes! Yes I’m sorryyyy…” Rachel begged.  
Kurt wasn’t so sure, but the food would be here soon and he still had the other troublemaker to deal with. He helped Rachel hobble up, but instead of letting her pull her clothes up, he dragged her shuffling to the nearest corner. “Good. You can think about that lesson here then.” Rachel huffed and reached back to rub her bottom. Kurt pulled her hands away and then smacked her fanny with three more hard spanks right there, sending her yelping and hopping in protest. “I think someone is going to think a lot better with their sore bare bottom on display,” he scolded in her ear. “No rubbing until I decide you’re ready to leave the corner.”  
Rachel whimpered at that, and moved her hands to her face so she could cry into them. It was hard now to think of anything but the tingly stinging sensation all across her backside. This sucks. She didn’t dare rub now, but she wanted to, and the desire to make it go away had her squirming slightly in the corner. It was embarrassing knowing both Kurt and Blaine were right there, seeing her humiliated like a child in the corner with her panties pulled down. She had to admit it would probably make her think twice about trying to circumvent homework anytime soon…


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine was feeling very small. Kurt was kinda intimidating when he was in discipline mode. Seeing Rachel get punished always made him think twice about being fresh in any way. It was hard not to stare at her red bottom, right in his eye line now. Poor Rachel. She was crying in the corner. It felt weird not to say something or go over to comfort her, something, but he didn’t dare move from the couch without permission at a time like this.  
Kurt looked Blaine over and then crossed to sit next to him. “I hope you understand that she-talked-me-into-it isn’t an excuse, young man,” he quietly warned.  
“Yes sir. I—I know sir. I don’t… have any excuses. Not any good ones anyway.” Blaine replied meekly.  
“You’re responsible for your schoolwork, and the reputation for professionalism you build, you know.”  
Blaine felt his face warm. He was right. This wasn’t high school anymore. “Yes sir,” he whispered. “It was unprofessional to ignore the assignment and… kind of… lazy to do something that didn’t involve much preparation,” he admitted.  
At this point Blaine was almost looking forward to being punished because he felt so guilty and miserable he just wanted some way to wipe the slate clean. A wave of compassion fell over Kurt, seeing Blaine beat himself up. He’s so different from Rachel sometimes. He loved them both, in different ways, of course. And he found them both exasperating at times. But Blaine certainly took his discipline more seriously a lot of the time.   
Kurt leaned into Blaine’s ear. “Hey. I don’t expect you to be perfect. You made a mistake. Sometimes part of school is making mistakes now so you don’t make them in the real world later. I’m going to warm your bottom up and you’ll write your letter of apology to Madame Thibideaux, but then it’s over, got it?”  
Blaine squeezed Kurt’s leg, comforted by this. He sniffled, hating how easily he got emotional in these situations, and wishing he’d done what he’d been supposed to.  
Kurt glanced over at Rachel, still facing the corner. He wasn’t sure if she heard everything he’d said, but he could bet she would be arguing that he wasn’t being as strict with Blaine as he’d been with her right now if she could. Truth be told, sometimes having to discipline them both kept Kurt honest—it was harder to go soft on one knowing the other would question it. A part of him felt like Blaine had probably been so embarrassed by Carmen’s dressing down that he’d been through enough, but that wasn’t really in line with their agreement. Feeling bad wasn’t a get-out-of-punishment-free card, and sending a mixed message here wasn’t going to serve anyone. Plus Rachel really would kill him if she got a red bottom and Blaine got off with a warning here. She’d be right, too.  
Kurt closed his eyes a moment, steeling himself for the task. He then gestured for Blaine to crawl over his lap, and Blaine hesitated only a moment before complying.   
Kurt cleared his throat. “After dinner you’re going to work on that apology letter, young man.”  
“Yes sir.” Blaine obediently responded, feeling Kurt’s strong hands adjusting him over his knee.  
“And you’re going to accept whatever time slot Carmen Thibideaux offers for your make-up performance. No complaints, even if it means having to get up early, or missing some show you were planning to watch with Sam that afternoon.”  
“Yes sir.”   
Blaine felt Kurt’s hands move to his sides, pushing his pajamas down to his knees, baring his bottom. He swallowed and looked forward. It really never got less embarrassing to get a spanking like this. It was nothing like the feelings he got in other positions and states of undress during intimate moments with Kurt—it was as though he’d been instantly turned back into a very small and naughty child and suddenly all he felt was remorse for his actions.  
The first SLAP of Kurt’s hand against his bottom startled, but Blaine bit his lip, trying not to cry out. Kurt followed with a succession of heavy swats, quickly coloring Blaine’s bottom pink. Blaine tried to control his breathing, to just take it and hope it’d be over quickly. A swift SMACK low on one cheek had a yelp tumble from his lips, though, and he writhed at the stinging flurry of spanks that followed it up. Blaine buried his face in the couch, moaning as Kurt continued to spank his tender bottom.   
“You know I take your schoolwork seriously, young man,” Kurt scolded.  
“YessirAHahOW.” Blaine replied, trying not to cry.  
“Stunts SMACK like this SWAT-SLAP are going to get you a good old-fashioned spanking SPANK SMACK, every time. SMACK” Blaine groaned, his vulnerable cheeks now bouncing at every other swat, the sting of the spanking building in intensity and his ability to hold back tears wavering.  
“Owwwwww,” Blaine whimpered, his fingers helplessly twisting into the fabric of the couch. He knew Rachel could hear the sound of each slap, and knowing she could hear his yelps and crying too only added to how embarrassing this was. He tried to hold his breath, wincing when it stung particularly badly.   
Kurt knew Blaine was feeling it, even if he was too proud to make the same level of noise and fuss that Rachel would. His reddening bottom and involuntarily kicking leg said that much. He pulled him up a bit further on his knee, as he often did near the end of a punishment, getting a better angle at his sit spots. He made a point of warming him there with several good spanks in a row, knowing it would likely be a stinging reminder while Blaine wrote that letter later. He let Blaine cry a bit into the couch while he flexed the sting from his hand and examined his handiwork. He indulged in rubbing Blaine’s back for a few moments before finding his firm voice again. “Alright, young man,” he said, patting Blaine’s reddened bottom. “It’s time for you to march yourself into a corner and think about what you’re going to do differently next time.”  
Cornertime felt almost more childish than a spanking somehow, but Blaine murmured a “Yes Sir,” and gingerly tried to hobble to his feet. He found that his tears only seemed to increase as he shuffled over to the empty corner by the shelves. He didn’t dare rub his bared bottom, which felt terribly exposed right now, but he ached with wanting to and found leaning his head against his arms to be the best security against giving into that temptation. He sniffled miserably, glad the worst was over and looking forward to crawling into bed as soon as he possibly could at the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine and Rachel both stiffened at the sudden knock on the loft door. They had forgotten about the Chinese food and stole a glance at each other, unsure what to do. They heard Kurt go to the kitchen, gather the cash together and then open the sliding door just enough to step through. He made small talk on the other side of the door with the delivery guy, but they couldn’t make out the words. Rachel leaned her forehead against the corner. She knew Kurt wouldn’t expose her to a stranger, but it was still unnerving, knowing someone she didn’t even know was a few feet away from seeing her like this. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the door slide closed again.  
Kurt put the bags on the table and then eyed his mischief-makers against the wall. They certainly always found a way to keep him on his toes, he mused. He went to Rachel first, helping her back into her pajamas from behind. She turned, far meeker than she’d been earlier.   
“Your dinner’s here honey,” he whispered.  
Rachel nodded. She was just glad her punishment was over. She still didn’t know what she was going to do about this whole scheduling conflict, but at least she could put this past her now. She rubbed at her bottom at last, relieved to be able to finally do so. All that drama had worked up an appetite in her though and she quickly turned her attention to getting over to the food.   
Kurt let Blaine stand in the corner a bit longer, preparing a plate for him. He was used to Blaine getting clingy and young after a punishment, and knew he would need some taking-care of now. True to form, when he did go over to Blaine and help him back into his clothes, Blaine settled his head in the crook of his neck for a while, sniffling back a tear. Kurt let him rest there a moment before giving his backside a soft pat. “It’s done. It’s time to eat,” he said, eliciting an obedient “yessir” from his chastised boyfriend. Kurt was about to turn when Blaine stopped his hand. Kurt turned to see what he needed and Blaine kissed him chastely on the lips. Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine’s hair, gently brushing at his tear-stained face, before leading him by the hand to the kitchen. Blaine rubbed absently at his bottom as he followed Kurt to the table, wincing only slightly as he sat at the plate that had been set for him. Kurt retrieved some note paper, an envelope, and a pen and placed it beside the plate. Blaine nodded, knowing what was expected. Kurt considered making Rachel write an apology letter too, but thought better of it. An apology wasn’t of much use if it wasn’t genuine, and if she wasn’t ready to come up with that resolution on her own he wasn’t going to push it. She’d been punished; it was best to let it drop.  
“Has anyone heard any more about Russ?” Rachel asked while pouring sweet and sour sauce over her vegetable fried rice and trying to find a way to sit in a chair without putting pressure on the sore spots on her bottom. She was clearly eager to change the subject.   
Kurt shrugged. “He’s still in a coma, last I heard.”  
“The guy downstairs said he’s known him since kindergarten, he must be so upset.” Rachel said. It was hard to feel too sorry for herself in the face of real problems. Growing up in Lima, she’d seen her share of bullying, but there was something particularly disturbing about this. It was hard not to picture one of her dads, lying in a coma in a hospital from a lynching like that. She couldn’t understand how anyone could be so hateful.   
“Well, I guess it’s a good reminder to keep our eyes open and go out in groups as much as possible.” Kurt said, rubbing Blaine’s shoulders gently.  
Rachel sighed. “It isn’t always that easy. Midtown is one thing, but we live in the middle of nowhere here.”   
“Have someone from your show walk with you—everyone must be going to the subway when rehearsals get out. And you can text me and one of us can always meet you at the station if you need us to, Rachel.” Kurt assured her.  
Rachel rolled her eyes. “And that leaves one of you waiting by the subway alone for me to arrive. And frankly, right now I’m more worried about you guys being the victim of a hate crime than I am about me.”  
“Maybe we should look into a self-defense course together.”” Blaine offered. “We’ll just try to walk in pairs at night as much as we can. We can’t live forever in fear.”  
Kurt nodded, but he wasn’t sure what the answer was. He could be over-protective of Blaine sometimes, scolding him for doing dumb things like going out alone for a snack too late at night, things he had been guilty of doing himself sometimes. He hated that this incident had Blaine looking over his shoulder more; it wasn’t fair. He supposed it was impossible to be completely secure in New York, but this whole thing with his neighbor’s friend had been a rude awakening that he hadn’t run off to some kind homophobia-free utopia. Being at NYADA and Vogue dot com, some of the more gay-friendly institutions on the planet, not to mention working at a diner devoted to singing waiters kind of made it easy to pretend sometimes that that was the case. But New York was a town for just about every kind of person, and some of those people weren’t very nice. They didn’t live in the safest neighborhood, but he couldn’t see moving and throwing even more money down the drain right now. He felt like he could protect himself, for the most part, but the thought of someone he cared about getting hurt gnawed at him. Someone has to stand up to these kinds of people, he thought, chewing on his lo mein.

* * * *  
A few days later, the gossip that Rachel had told Carmen Thibideaux she was going to drop out reached Kurt’s ears quickly. Blaine insisted it couldn’t be true; she had worked so hard to get into NYADA, why would she throw it all away? But Kurt had a bad feeling. Kurt walked Blaine to the subway after class but had plans to put in a couple hours of Vogue dot com before meeting Rachel for dinner before she went off to rehearsal nearby. He assured Blaine that if the rumor was true he’d try to talk Rachel out of it. Her impulsivity drove him crazy sometimes, but this was a life-changing decision he was sure she’d regret.   
Unfortunately, the conversation didn’t go as planned and exploded into a nasty argument that ended with Rachel walking out on him before she’d even ordered. Kurt paid for his drink, figuring if she wasn’t even staying he wasn’t going to waste money on a pricey meal. So much for sticking together for walks to the subway…


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn’t the weekend yet, but Blaine was crashing at Kurt’s place so he could quiz him on the Romantic period before his test the next day, which was not likely to be nearly as sexy as it sounded. But Blaine had been studying his flash cards all afternoon and was finally feeling pretty confident. Theatre history was his toughest course right now, after stage combat, and doing well on this test would be a big step in making sure he passed. He’d also rescheduled his Midwinter Critique for tomorrow, so he was trying to focus on thinking positively. He’d been ready for Kurt to start drilling him when he heard the steps coming down the hall from the loft, and had been pleasantly surprised to see it was Sam. Unfortunately, Sam had come to share that Mercedes had finally said they couldn’t be together. Something about Sam being “too white?” Blaine wasn’t sure what this was going to mean for their living arrangement, but mostly he just felt bad for Sam. He knew he had had a string of bad luck with relationships and that he had tried to make a go of it with Mercedes back in high school. He wasn’t sure that Sam and Mercedes would actually work as a couple, but Sam sure seemed depressed that now it didn’t even look like a possibility. In high school Sam had always been surrounded by friends as far as Blaine could tell, and here in New York he just seemed very lonely. He didn’t know what he would have done without his best friend by his side in New York and he wished he could fix things for him. He’d been happier in the weeks they’d lived at Mercedes’ than he’d seen him in all the time he’d been in New York, and now that was likely going to fall apart. He tried to get him to smile, finding his old kazoo and offering to read him Star Wars fanfiction like he’d done a few months back when he was still crashing on the couch in the loft.   
Blaine wasn’t even thinking about Kurt when his phone rang with an unknown number. There was a doctor saying something about “critical condition” and “possible fractures.” It all took a bit to process, and suddenly it was Sam holding Blaine together instead of the other way around. 

* * * *

That night was a blur. First he had called Mr. Hummel, but had been too wound up and worried to speak clearly and had to put Sam on the phone to explain everything. Then there was a whole hassle at the hospital getting any information about what was going on. Rachel was closest and got there first, but no one at the ER would tell her anything because she wasn’t family. Luckily, Kurt having an emergency contact card with Blaine’s name on it in his coat, and the added help of having a Congressman for a father pushed things along so they got someone to talk to Blaine. Blaine was so grateful to hear that Kurt was going to be okay, and it was all he could do not to run into the hospital room once they said he could see him.   
Kurt was really beaten up. It was disturbing to look at, at first. It was comforting to be surrounded by friends when he first saw him. The doctors said he was on a lot of pain killers, so he likely wouldn’t be waking up for awhile. There were so many little cuts and bruises, Blaine thought of how much they must have hurt and wanted to kiss them all, take away the hurt somehow. He had heard Kurt talk before about how he had “outgrown” being afraid of homophobic jerks, how he would stand up to them, especially if he saw someone hurting someone else. It was an admirable thought in theory—Blaine wasn’t sure that he himself could be that brave in reality, although he of course knew he would call the police if he saw something terrible going on. Part of him thought that Kurt had always felt bad when he told him about that story of how he’d been beaten up at that Sadie Hawkins’ Dance in the eighth grade, always wished he’d known him back then and been able to help him fight back, or something. Blaine sighed. He wanted to be angry at Kurt for putting himself in danger, but he knew even if he’d been there he wouldn’t have been able to talk him out of it. He couldn’t see a gay man get beat up and not think of what would happen if it was Blaine, or one of Rachel’s dads—and of what would happen if he just kept walking. It was just the kind of person Kurt was. But seeing him like this, in a hospital bed, covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises… it was hard. He barely noticed his friends backing out of the room. He brushed a finger lightly against his forehead, grazing the area where the doctor had said he had a hairline fracture. He winced, thinking about it. He was so used to Kurt holding him together in so many ways; it was particularly hard to see him so fragile here, and not have him to hold him and whisper that it was going to be okay. Blaine crawled onto the hospital bed and snuggled close to his fiancé, not knowing what else to do.

* * * *

Rachel knocked on the door to the room a couple hours later. Blaine blinked awake, unsure at first where he was, and then, seeing the deep cut on Kurt’s face brought it all back. He rubbed his eyes and called, “Come in?”  
Rachel looked him over. “Were you sleeping?”  
Blaine nodded.  
“Do you want to sleep here tonight?”   
Blaine looked sad and nodded.   
“I just wanted you to know I’m going to go back to the loft, and I can get some of Kurt’s things together if you want— Mercedes and Sam went back to your place a half hour ago, I’m sure they’d be happy to bring you a change of clothes tomorrow morning if you text them. I wanted to stay and see if anything changed, but I have rehearsal tomorrow and if I don’t go now I’ll never get any sleep—“  
“I need to go with you.”  
“I thought you said you were going to stay here?”  
“No. I said… I do want to stay here. But I need to go with you.”  
“What? Why?”  
“You gotta make me wake up in the morning and get to NYADA. I have to take my Romanticism test and do my critique—“  
“Your professors will understand—“  
“No. Kurt wouldn’t want me to blow off my schoolwork.””  
There was a long pause. Blaine rubbed at his eyes, wishing he had coffee.  
“Besides, he’d tan my hide if he heard I was letting you walk home at 1 in the morning.”  
Rachel nodded slowly. “We can take a cab. He wouldn’t want either one of us out at this time of night.”  
“Mr. Hummel will be here by morning. They’ll call me if anything happens right?” Blaine was searching his pockets for a business card the nurse had given him. He was still a little scattered, part of his brain still trying to get back to sleep.  
“Yes. I’m sure they’ll tell you anything.” Rachel got Blaine’s coat and put it on him. She reached into his pockets and got his gloves out.   
“It’s colder than you think,” she said.  
Blaine put his gloves on, grateful for her.  
“Let me talk to the nurse. I’ll make sure she knows to call if there’s any news. Then we’ll go home and get some rest so you’ll be fresh for your test tomorrow. Have you eaten?”  
“…Not since… I don’t know… I had some leftovers from the fridge around 5?”  
Rachel shook her head. She pulled some change from her purse. “There’s a vending machine down the hall. Get something with halfway nutritional, okay? Tomorrow we’re going to get breakfast before you go to school, Kurt wouldn’t want you running around on an empty stomach like this.”  
Blaine nodded obediently. It was helpful having someone take charge. He turned back to Kurt. He leaned down to his ear. “I have to go, Kurt. Rachel’s gonna take care of me, though, you don’t gotta worry,” he whispered. “Your dad’s comin in the morning, and I’ll be right back when I’m done with school, I promise. You just keep restin and getting better. I’ll behave.” His voice broke a little as the words came tumbling out. “Rachel will help if I have trouble. You just get better.” He brushed his lips gently against Kurt’s to kiss him, afraid too much pressure might hurt him somehow, and then tore himself from his bedside. He could taste the salt from a tear streaming down his cheek, and then felt Rachel’s gentle nudge towards the door, pressing coins in his hand.   
“Get some pretzels, or something vaguely nutritional at least. He wouldn’t like you just eating junk,” she told him.  
Blaine sniffled and headed towards the vending machine, glad to have a task to focus on. Rachel watched him from the door and then looked back at Kurt. “He’ll be okay. I promise,” she whispered.


End file.
